


Curtain Call

by Laziam (MItCheLlInE)



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Theatre, Crossdressing, Fluff, M/M, Shy Zayn, Tiny Bang 2016, Writers4Ziam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 14:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11785461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MItCheLlInE/pseuds/Laziam
Summary: Zayn is most comfortable behind the scenes, but a series of unfortunate circumstances turn his world upside down.





	Curtain Call

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while back for the Tiny Bang run by Writers4Ziam and forgot to add it here. Thanks for having a look.

“Stop… I said, stooop!”

James Corden, renowned director of Corden’s Little Theatre, waves his arms in the air furiously.

“Liam, you have to do better than that,” he reprimands the young actor on the stage. “You’re hugging your lady like she’s your estranged mother. Where is the passion?”

“I’m not a rom-com actor, James. I do classical theatre, remember?” It’s interesting to hear such thinly veiled frustration from Liam; he’s notoriously polite and usually quite respectful of the show’s director.

“You’re the only leading man around here, and you have mere hours to sort yourself out. Also, where is your jacket? You’re supposed to wear your leather jacket in this scene.”

The director looks around the room, irritation flaring up in his voice. “Stagehand? The jacket? Anyone?”

Zayn watches the proceedings from his safe place behind the crossover. He studies set design at uni and considers himself lucky to have landed a part time job with the company as a runner. Even though the job is casual, Zayn doesn’t miss a single rehearsal or performance. He loves everything about the theatre, from the hustle and bustle behind the scenes to the magic created on the stage, and most of all: he loves Liam Payne.

He has never actually spoken to Liam, not as such. They smile at each other when they pass in the corridors, and Zayn sometimes thinks that Liam looks at him for longer than necessary, but that can’t possibly be true, seeing as he could date any of the legions of fans that wait for him by the exit every evening.

Right now, Zayn is a little annoyed that Mr Corden is having a go at Liam about something that is not his fault. He can’t help it if he and Clare, the leading actress, are not compatible.  
Niall, the sound technician, unexpectedly throws the jacket to Zayn, his customary, jovial grin on his face. “Go and give this to Liam, before the boss bursts a blood vessel.”

“I can’t go out there; I’ve never even set foot on that stage,” Zayn protests.

“Go…shoo.” Niall flicks his hand in the direction where Liam, Clare and Mr Corden are discussing the closing scene. Zayn awards him a withering glare but does as he is told. He walks out, clutching the jacket to his chest.

“Who the hell are you?” Mr Corden wants to know.

“Z-Zayn… Um, I have the jacket.”

“Well, boy, don’t stand there and gape, Liam needs it.”

Zayn hands the item over, wanting the ground to swallow him whole when their fingers touch and he turns an embarrassing shade of red. To make matters worse, Liam thanks him profusely and winks at him. It’s all too much for Zayn, so he flees to the green room, where he feels safe and secure.

Niall is already there, lounging on one of the comfortable sofas. With him are Harry, the make-up artist, and Louis, who is in charge of the costumes. The two of them are very much in love, permanently flirting with each other. All of them are great lads, always including Zayn in everything, not looking down on him for being the lowly assistant.

“How was that for you, Zaynie?” Niall quips.

“Very funny, Nialler,” Zayn says, punching him playfully on the arm. “Thanks to you, the boss now thinks that I’m some kind of bumbling idiot—Liam was nice, though,” he adds softly.

The other three roll their eyes affectionately. Zayn hasn’t specifically opened up to any of them about his feelings for Liam, but somehow, they all seem to have gotten the picture.

“I hope everything goes smoothly tonight,” Louis says, feeding Harry peanuts from a bowl.

“It better had done; it’s a sell-out. Rich business man falls in love with his sassy secretary—very original—but the tickets are going like hot cakes, so there must be a market for it,” Niall muses, flicking through a magazine without actually reading anything.

“What should we order to eat then, lads?” Louis asks.

The cast members traditionally go out for lunch together before the final dress rehearsal, leaving the crew to get a takeaway, since they are required to stay for the final checks on the day of the opening performance.

“I thought we decided on a chippy. I’ll just grab my keys and get it; does everyone want their usual?” Harry is already halfway through the door to the shouts of agreement from the others.

*****

“That’s it; we will have to postpone. I hope people will understand, otherwise, I’m finished,” James barks, arriving backstage with a face like thunder.

“What happened, boss?” Louis asks with apprehension.

“What happened? I tell you what happened. Both Clare and Michelle are in hospital with food poisoning. Whose bright idea was it to let the lead actress and her understudy eat the same food?” James rages, frantically pacing up and down.

“Erm, yours?” Louis suggests.

“That was a rhetorical question, Louis.” James huffs, holding his forehead. “Right, we need to let the press know and contact the people who’ve bought tickets.”

“Isn’t that a huge risk?” Harry asks, kind of stating the obvious.

“Yes, Harry, I’m aware of that but I have no other option.” With that, he storms off, cursing under his breath.

“Shit, that’s disastrous news. The theatre’s finances and reputation are at stake. What a bummer that nobody else knows the part,” Louis sighs, shrugging his shoulders.

“I do; shame I’m not a girl.”

Zayn’s voice is barely audible, but the others must have heard him because suddenly the room falls completely silent. Harry and Louis stare at him open-mouthed, exchanging meaningful glances. Zayn can practically see the cogs turning in their heads. Seconds later, Louis slaps his hand on Zayn’s shoulder. “And you know all of the lines and all of the blocking?”

“Yes, of course. I know everyone’s role off by heart,” Zayn confirms, wondering why that might be important.

Next thing he knows, both Harry and Louis throw their arms around him.

“Zayn, you are a genius,” Louis shrieks, bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“Why? And why are you two looking at me like that?” Zayn is confused, searching Louis’ face for answers.

Harry springs into action, taking Zayn by the shoulders and guiding him to the large mirror in the dressing room.

“Because, Zaynie, look at your reflection and say hello to the new sexy secretary.”

“Guys, what are you talking about? I’m still not a woman.” Zayn is unsuccessfully trying to connect the dots.

“Let Louis and me worry about that. You’re gonna be the saviour of this production, and as an irresistible bonus—” Harry pauses for dramatic effect, “—you get to kiss Liam.”

Zayn couldn’t be any more horrified if he tried. “No, absolutely not… I can’t do that… I’d die,” he says, raking his fingers through his hair.

“It’ll be fine; come on, let’s break our killer idea to the boss.” Harry’s enthusiasm would be endearing if Zayn’s nerves weren’t so frazzled.

“You want to do what? Don’t you think this day is enough of a catastrophe without your inappropriate jokes?” James’ tone is disappointed rather than angry. “This is a part for a woman, in case that fact has escaped your notice.”

Zayn is searching for something useful to say. He wishes, he had never mentioned his obsession with the scripts. “Don’t blame Harry and Louis; they didn’t mean any disrespect,” he says as firmly as he can.

But Louis is having none of it, ”It’s not disrespectful; it’s a phenomenal idea, ”he challenges his employer. “Just think about the papers picking it up, hailing you as a progressive director; a master of innovation even.”

“Yes, let’s get Zayn ready and do the dress rehearsal. If you’re not convinced, you can still cancel. What do you have to lose?” Harry joins in with the charm offensive.

“I can’t believe; I’m saying this and make no mistake…I think you’re all batshit crazy, but go ahead. If there is the slightest chance we can premiere tonight, it might be worth a try,” James concedes with an unsuccessful attempt at a smile.

The next hour turns out to be the longest in Zayn’s 20 years of existence. Louis dresses him in traditional office attire, complete with prosthetic bra and long-haired wig. The black pencil skirt and white blouse miraculously fit like a glove. After an intensive search in a huge trunk, he manages to find a pair of tights that he thinks will fit. He brushes away Zayn’s concern, that size S may be too small for him, by pointing out that his bulge is offset by his non-existent ass. Zayn doesn’t quite know what he is expecting when Harry sits him down in the makeup chair, but it isn’t this. Using countless brushes, lotions and powders, he transforms Zayn’s face into something that looks beautifully feminine. He can’t believe what a fantastic job those two have done.

“And now, for the piece de resistance, “Louis chimes, holding up a pair of red, intimidatingly high stilettos.

“No way can I wear them,” Zayn states categorically,” they will put me into A&E faster than you can say “broken ankle”.  
“Just practise for a while, “Louis assures him, “Haz wears similar ones at home all time.”

Zayn thanks him mentally for that wonderful piece of oversharing, but he doesn’t want to offend him by not even trying, and although the shoes slip on quite easily, they put his feet at an impossible angle.

“Wow…I didn’t expect it to hurt this much,” he winces, “tremendous respect for the ladies… and you, Harry.”

“You look out of this world, Zaynie.” Louis claps his hands, “and please put your glasses back on to perfect the look.”

Harry and Louis continue to marvel at their handiwork, as Zayn grows more and more petrified by the minute. Has he bitten off more than he can chew?

When the call for the dress rehearsal finally comes, he thinks he might actually faint, but then he decides that he is made out of sterner stuff and that he will not let James, the crew and most importantly Liam down. The rehearsal goes smoothly, and Zayn finds himself growing in confidence with every successful scene. When he has interactions with Liam, he has to concentrate hard not to miss his cues, and when they have to touch, his voice gets a bit wobbly. Hopefully, the audience will take that as a sign of an emotive performance. All in all, it runs smoothly until the final scene.

Zayn is preparing himself for the climactic moment, where Liam is supposed to take his hand and plant a chaste kiss onto the corner of his mouth. However, Liam is clearly not willing to follow the script. In total disregard for the instructions, he swiftly pulls Zayn towards him, holding onto his wrist with one hand and putting the other one on his cheek. He brushes his lips against Zayn’s, before kissing him passionately.

Zayn is practically floating until the rapturous applause from everyone in attendance brings him back to reality.

“Bravo…bravo! If that’s not chemistry, then I don’t know what is.” James beams, jumping up from his chair. “You, young man, are a hero. Let’s go and get ready for tonight’s show.”

Everyone disperses, but Liam doesn’t move. Zayn is acutely aware, that he is still holding on to his wrist.

“You were amazing, Zayn,” he says softly. “I wanted to ask so many times… um… would you like to go to dinner with me…sometime….maybe?”

Zayn can’t help but grin like an idiot, “Yes, I would love to, but only if I can wear more comfortable footwear.”

“It’s a deal,” Liam laughs, leading an ecstatic Zayn off the stage.


End file.
